Welcome to the Ranks
by Rain in the Morning
Summary: Cyclops wakes up a prisoner at Alkali Lake and meets William Stryker. Set during X2. One shot, rating for language.


_A/N: I was watching my X2 DVD, when I came across the deleted scene when Xavier "escapes" from Stryker's base. The bit where he finds Scott served as the inspiration for this story. Think of it as a missing scene from the movie!_

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**Welcome to the Ranks**

Scott opened his eyes, and was immediately confused.

Everything was black. And his face hurt.

He was so confused, that he scrunched his eyes shut and opened them a second time. _Shit!_ he thought. _I'm blind_. It wasn't his first time experiencing blindness. Memories of stumbling around back allies as a youth, with nothing but his hands to guide him, were still sharp as ever.

_Where am I?_ Scott cast about with his remaining senses, trying to dig up some clues as to his location. It was cold, it smelled of mildew, and he could hear something dripping faintly in the background. _Isn't dripping water an ancient torture device? Perhaps I've been captured by psychopaths who locked me in a dark room with a leaky faucet._ _That'd be just my luck, wouldn't it?_

Something cold was touching the bridge of his nose and his temples. _At least they left my visor on me. How kind of them._

He reached up, intending to blast his way out of wherever he was, but his hand stopped after moving only two inches. _What the–?_

Muggy confusion and the dull ache on the side of his head faded away as he realized something unpleasant: his hands were tied behind him. Suddenly everything came rushing back: The Professor visiting Magneto, both men collapsing, fighting the guards, and then being kicked in the head by some crazy woman who seemed to be able to defy gravity.

_THE PROFESSOR!_ Scott tried to scramble to his feet and nearly ended up flat on his face. A sudden tension in his arms and an agonizing pain in his shoulders saved him from eating concrete. _Shit, shit, shit! Okay, calm down, Scott. Take some deep breaths. Do what you were taught to do at times like these. Assess your situation._

He was on his knees with his arms wrenched up painfully behind him. Scott felt very vulnerable in that position, and managed to fight his way to his feet. Vertigo washed over him, and he braced himself against the damp wall. _Yeah, getting kicked in the head's never great for one's sense of balance. But I've suffered kicks to the head before, and the ground's never been this unsteady…_ He tottered shakily forward, and felt the chain pull taut. _Great. Not only are my hands cuffed, but I'm attached to the wall by a chain too short to lie down, let alone walk anywhere._ _This is just getting better and better, isn't it?_

Scott's frustration was quickly mounting. Although frustration was familiar to him, his reaction was completely uncharacteristic: he snapped. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Scott bellowed, straining as far forward as his chain would let him. "Where's the Professor! What've you done to him!" He paused, receiving no answer other than the faint drip – drip – drip of the phantom leaky faucet. "AND WHAT THE _FUCK_ IS WITH THE DRIPPING WATER!" he added.

He carried along in this vein for quite some time, and several minutes later Scott leaned against the wall of his prison, completely drained by his outburst. He felt slightly embarrassed at his complete loss of control._ At least Logan isn't here to see this_.

The door creaked open, and for one wild moment Scott thought that it was indeed Logan. Being stuck in here with that guy was the only thing that could possibly make his situation even worse.

But it wasn't Logan. Scott froze and let his ears do the work. _Six people, four wearing army boots and one wearing high heels. Hmm…_

"Hello, Scott." The drawling southern accent put the mutant's teeth on edge.

_How the fuck does he–? Oh, right. The Professor._

"I'm William Stryker. You've already met my associate Lady Deathstrike. Welcome to Alkaline Lake."

_Alkaline Lake?_ Scott was stunned. _Does this guy have something to do with Logan? No, don't think of that now, Scott – Focus!_ He forced his face into a neutral expression. _I'm not gonna play any games, pal. I just want to know one thing._ "Where's the Professor?"

"Oh, he's fine. Still unconscious from the gas, though." _Keep in control, Scott. He's just trying to get under your skin. Keep in control._ "When he wakes up, I daresay he'll prove _very_ useful."

_To HELL with control!_

"BASTARD!" Scott lunged forward, ignoring the pain in his shoulders as he fought to get at Stryker.

He could hear four pairs of army boots drawing closer to him, and was prepared to roll with the inevitable blow from his nearest opponent. He was surprised by a punch to the ribs from the _other _side, which utterly foiled his plan. Scott crashed inelegantly to his knees, nearly dislocating his shoulders in the process._ Shit!_ A savage kick to the stomach stopped him for the moment, and he bent over as far as he could go to stifle the pain.

"My, my," Stryker tutted calmly as the mutant gasped for air. "You let your anger get the better of you, Scott. Fortunately, I keep all of my wild dogs on short leashes."

Someone tugged the chain holding his arms above his head, and Scott gritted his teeth. "I'm not one of your dogs," he managed to say.

"Not yet."

Scott kept his head down and concentrated on breathing.

"Young man, you have an incredible power," Stryker was saying. "This visor of yours is most interesting. The analysis showed it was lined with rose quartz. One of the only materials that can stop those rays of yours."

_Visor? Wait a minute – if he's holding the visor, then…_ "What'd you put over my eyes?"

"Effective, isn't it?" the other man said conversationally. "I made it myself, out of adamantium. I'm something of an expert in that area."

_Adamantium… Alkaline Lake… this can't be coincidence. What the hell does this man have to do with Logan?_

"You've heard of adamantium before," remarked Stryker, apparently reading his thoughtful expression. "You must have met Logan while he was staying in that… _school_. What did you think of him? Remarkable, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Scott muttered sarcastically. "Really remarkable." _Wait a minute…_ Scott's breathing quickened as he fought down his fear. "How do you know about the school?" _The kids… Oh, god, not the kids…_

"Nice place," said the man blithely. "The welcome wasn't that warm. But a few of the children were kind enough to accompany us on the trip back."

Scott felt rising panic, and anger – something he had come to recognize as a dangerous mixture. _Don't do anything stupid, Scott. If you lose your temper now, he'll never tell you anything._ Scott took a deep breath, forcing himself to speak calmly. "What do you want them for?"

"That is not your concern," Stryker answered._ Crap. He's not going to tell me anything anyway._

Scott was silent once more, his mind working frantically._ He's got only a few of the kids, so most of them escaped. But what the HELL was Logan doing? Why didn't he protect them? Typical of the bastard, always saving his own immortal skin._ Scott felt a surge of anger towards the other mutant, a feeling he was beginning to grow very accustomed to. _Thank god Jean's in Boston. She and Storm will find their way here eventually. If they don't, the kids, the Professor and I will be in serious shit._ "Help will come for them and Professor Xavier" he said with more confidence than he felt.

"I expect something of the sort," the other man said amiably. "But I will have someone formidable on my side to protect me."

Scott's curiosity was peaked. _Does Stryker have another mutant under his control besides that insane woman?_ "Who?" Of course, he should have seen it coming.

"Why – you."

"_Never!_" Scott snarled.

"You say that now," the other man replied. "I've come across a fascinating substance in my dealings with mutants. It gives the wielder _powerful_ methods of persuasion." Stryker paused, and there was a rustle of clothing. Scott could picture the other man's hand reaching inside a pocket to withdraw some horrible weapon or tool. "Welcome to the ranks – Cyclops."

Hands grabbed him, and Scott struggled. He didn't have a chance, really. The soldiers did their jobs quickly, efficiently, and yes, painfully. In a matter of minutes Scott was slumped over in a dazed heap.

The person wearing heels moved closer, and Scott's head was clamped between a small pair of hands. Deathstrike slowly increased the pressure, and Scott gasped, feeling as though his skull would crack. _Holy shit! This bitch has hands of steel! _He flinched as something dripped onto the back of his neck, burning him, but no matter how he struggled he couldn't move his head.

To his surprise, the pain faded quickly and he felt no different. In fact, he was feeling quite relaxed. The soldiers and Deathstrike released him, and he remained kneeling on the cold floor. _Anytime now… something's gonna happen… a flash of pain, or maybe I'll start hallucinating or something…_

"Stand up, Scott."

He pushed himself wearily to his feet, turning his face to where he thought Stryker was standing. _What'll he do to me now?_

"Stand on one leg." Scott was surprised at the order, but even more surprised when his body instantly obeyed. _What the fuck! _He struggled to put his foot down, but it was as if his body had been taken over by someone else. He was a hapless bystander. Not only that, but his thoughts were becoming increasingly lethargic. _What was that stuff? I feel like I took a handful of sleeping pills…_

"Very good." Scott felt enraged and humiliated, but any reply on his part somehow disappeared between his mind and his mouth. _Christ, what's happening to me?_ "Put you're your leg down. And close your eyes." Everything remained black, of course, but Scott felt Deathstrike remove the adamantium band from his eyes, replacing it with the familiar weight of his visor. "Now open them." Scott looked out at a red-washed world.

He could see the four soldiers watching him warily. _Yeah, you guys just wait until I'm out of these chains. _He could see Deathstrike looking at him impassively. _The girl with the iron hands – or probably adamantium, knowing Stryker. Is she a prisoner in there too, fighting against this stuff?_ He could see Stryker looking at him with a very satisfied expression. _Hello, you sonofabitch. It's the first time I've seen you and I hate you already… or is it?_

Scott's memory flashed again, back to when he was nineteen. He had passed by Professor Xavier's office, and had stopped at the sound of raised voices. This man, Stryker, had been standing in front of the Professor's desk. At his side was a stringy-looking teenaged boy. Scott couldn't remember exactly what was being said – something about a "cure" – but the Professor had looked past Stryker and seen him. A whisper of thought from Professor X had told him to move along, and Scott had obeyed. _This man's son was a mutant! Is this what this is all about? Is he trying to punish the Professor for not curing his son?_

"Release him."

The soldiers moved forward hesitantly, and unlocked his chains. Scott brought his aching arms around to the front of his body, and rubbed his wrists. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the strange sense of drowsiness. _I should blast this motherfucker through the wall!_ he thought fiercely, glaring at Stryker. Well, he wasn't actually glaring, but the mental glare he was shooting at the older man should have burned a hole in his forehead, regardless of the visor. _Come on... Just move your hand a few inches… come on! _He was straining with all of his might to life his arm to his visor, but he may as well have tried to lift the Statue of Liberty's arm for all the good it did him.

"Listen, Scott," said Stryker, drawing closer to him and lowering his voice. "Here are your orders…"

As the man whispered in his ear, Scott gave a mental scream of frustration and horror. He realized Stryker's plan for him, and knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Even now he could feel his alertness dimming as he sank into a light stupor.

_JEAN! _he thought frantically, clinging onto his diminishing awareness. _Can you hear me? Jean, listen to me, please! Just stay away from here! STAY AWAY!_

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Flying over Boston, Jean suddenly blinked and raised a hand to her head. Storm glanced over from where she was piloting the jet "Jean?" she asked in concern.

"I thought I heard…" The woman shook her head in confusion. "I don't know. A warning, maybe. Very faint…" She lapsed into silence, and when she heard no more she sighed heavily. "Never mind. Just my imagination acting up."

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_A/N: So… love it? Hate it? This is my first X-men fanfic, so I'd love to hear from you!_


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